


Afterglow

by bitsori



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Developing Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 16:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsori/pseuds/bitsori
Summary: Minho, if anything, has become a habit. It’s become so easy for them to seek each other out whenever one or both of them is in need of some sort of release, at least that’s how Changbin sees it. Far be it for him to assume what goes on in Minho’s head, because by now he’s learned that’s nearly impossible to do.Either way, it’s become routine -  a drink, maybe two, never too much to get them drunk, but always just enough to give them an ample amount of liquid courage before they’re falling all over each other. Once the sun is up, and the alcohol is gone, no one really mentions any of it again - at least until the next time the cycle begins once more.--or: Changbin meets Minho, and even though he doesn't know what to make of him, at least Minho makes life interesting. ( AU )





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> [ 1 ] There's no actual smut, or graphic sex in this fic, but the fact that the characters have sex is regularly mentioned/alluded to. If that makes you feel uncomfortable, then this is probably not for you.
> 
> [ 2 ] I just want to share: bickering Minbin is one of my favorite SKZ dynamics, heh. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! ♥

  
  
  
  


 

The first time it happens, Minho only wakes up because the sun is peeping through the window. He’d clearly forgotten to close the blinds the night before, and so the rays are hitting him directly in the face. Annoyed, he shifts a little, really only wanting to go back to sleep even though he figures that it must be around noon already if the sun is already _that_ high up. He has a splitting headache, and he barely remembers anything that happened the night before which is very much unlike him - he usually knows his limits when it comes to alcohol, and he _always_ knows when to stop.

Apparently that wasn’t the case for last night, even though why he’d allowed this to happen is just among the things he can’t remember; and then he stretches an arm out and he feels the presence of someone else on his bed.

 _Shit,_ he thinks, as brief images of the night before flash in his head.

He turns to his side to face his surprise companion, and he reaches over to give their arm a gentle shake.

“Changbin,” he calls out, his voice groggy, but firm. “Changbinnie, wake up.”

Changbin only grunts and mumbles something inaudible under his breath before proceeding to turn over to his other side.

“Changbin, wake up,” Minho repeats, shaking him harder.

“Whasdfsgft?” Changbin groans, turning back around. _“What?!”_

Minho stares at him, and waits for him to comprehend things.

Changbin blinks and slowly sits up, looking around.

“Shit,” he finally says, realization clearly dawning on him and taking over his expression. Minho just nods.

Awkward silence takes over as the two of them eye each other, neither of them moving to get up.

“Fuck,” Changbin eventually says, as another wave of realization hits him.

“Yeah,” Minho nods. His expression now displays amusement more than anything else, but his delivery is quite deadpan. “ _Fuck._ I’m pretty sure that's what we did last night.”

Changbin sputters and almost chokes, and soon he’s half laughing and half coughing because he obviously can’t believe that Minho actually just said _that._ A small smirk is curved on Minho’s lips when he finally sits up, but soon enough his shoulder start to shake and his own hearty laughter is echoing throughout the room.

  
  
  


———— ❦ ————

  
  
  


The first time they actually meet is in the lobby of their building. Changbin later finds out that that was only the first week after Minho had moved in, but at the time all he knows is that he was minding his own business, checking his own mail and hardly noticing the stranger standing just a couple of feet away from him.

“Those look like a lot of bills,” a voice suddenly says, and when Changbin turns to look, the guy is looking at him with a smile, like they’re old friends having a casual conversation. “The cost of living is tough on our wallets these days.”

“Huh?” Changbin blinks at the stranger, confused. He can’t help but try to recall if they’ve somehow met before - he’s in the middle of his last year of university, and schoolwork has been piling up and stressing him out a great deal, so he won’t be surprised if he’s neglected to remember anyone new that he’s met during the last few months.

“It’s convenient, but it’s really not easy living on your own,” the guy continues, and Changbin, for the life of him, really does not remember him.

“I— I guess?” He answers, uncertainty more than evident in his tone.

“I’m Lee Minho, by the way,” the guy informs him, and Changbin is able to breathe a small sigh of relief. Even though he still has no idea why this guy is talking to him so casually, an introduction at least means he was right to have no idea who he is. “I live in the unit right above yours,” this Lee Minho continues, and once again Changbin is taken aback - how does he even know which unit Changbin occupies? The bewilderment must have shown clearly on his expression, because the guy laughs and gestures at his still open mailbox, which had his unit number displayed on it.

 _“Oh,”_ he chuckles when the realisation comes to him. “Right.” He’s still a bit wary, but he surmises that the guy seems to be harmless enough. “Seo Changbin,” he offers, lowering his head politely.

“Right,” Minho nods, as if he’s committing the name to memory, and then he flashes a smile pretty enough that it catches Changbin off guard. “I’ll see you around, Seo Changbin.”

  
  
  


Maybe the words ‘see you around’ had some kind of spell or charm to them, because funny enough, Minho and Changbin end up seeing a lot of each other. Every time Changbin goes to check his mail, Minho is somehow already there - or he’ll walk in just a minute or two later. Maybe it sounds normal, since they _do_ live in the same building, but Changbin is pretty sure he never sees even the two women who live right _across_ him as much.  

Once, after Changbin steps into the elevator and finds him already there, he’s unable to keep himself from making a comment about it. “If I didn’t know better,” he says, eyebrow slightly cocked, “I’d think you were stalking me.”

Minho’s eyes actually widen at the accusation, but his lips soon curve into an entertained smirk. “Is that what you wish was going on here?” He asks, chuckling, _teasing._

Maybe it’s because Changbin hadn’t expected him to be so smooth in diverting the playful jab right back at him, but he feels warmth creeping up his neck. It’s fascinating, honestly, how unfazed he is by the situation, while Changbin feels quite flustered - a feat in itself, because he’s normally not the type to get so easily unnerved.

“Hah,” is all he can lamely retort, accompanied by forced, awkward laughter. “You got me there.”

“Cool,” Minho laughs along, his eyes twinkling mischievously even as he keeps his gaze on Changbin. “Guess that just means I’ll keep seeing you around then.”

After the doors slide open and Minho promptly steps out into the lobby, Changbin is left wondering if that was Minho _flirting_ with him.

  
  
  


Whatever it is, Changbin eventually ends up desensitized by Minho’s ability to show up anywhere and everywhere he goes. From the convenience store right across the street, to the family restaurant he eats dinner at whenever there’s no more food left in his pantry - he ends up seeing Minho at all of these places.

This is why he doesn’t bat an eyelash, when one night he finds Minho at a drinking stall just two short blocks away from their apartment building.

It’s actually a nice evening out, but it’s also been one of those very long days - he’d turned in the first draft of his thesis proposal, and his adviser had obliterated it. Okay, perhaps ‘obliterated’ is an exaggeration, but the review had still left Changbin feeling an extreme need to destress.

He had considered messaging a few of his friends - a night out would help him a lot, but he’d decided against it at the last minute. Drinking by himself would do the trick just as easily, and he wouldn’t need to worry about burdening any of his friends with the responsibility of taking care of him for the night.

And yet, when he spots Minho, he doesn’t think twice about approaching him. He’s about to tap the other male’s shoulder to get his attention, when he realises that Minho is in the middle of a serious conversation with the ajumma manning the stall.

“...I have a granddaughter as pretty as Suzy,” the lady vendor shares, practically cooing. “She’ll fit well with you - you're even more handsome than that other Lee Minho.”

“Ajumma,” Minho laughs and shakes his head. “Actor Lee Minho and Suzy broke up a while back, it's not fair to doom me and your granddaughter by framing the set-up like that!”

Changbin almost snorts loudly when he hears their conversation more clearly. So maybe it wasn’t actually as serious as he’d thought - it’s not his fault they looked so involved in their talk that he’d assumed it was more serious than plain celebrity gossip.

“Ah, Changbinnie!” Minho greets as soon as he looks over his shoulder and finds him there.

 _Changbinnie_ , Minho calls him as if they're two close friends meeting each other as planned. Somehow, he finds that he doesn't mind - Minho makes it sound so natural sliding off his tongue.

“Minho-yah,” he tries with a grunt and a casual nod.

He gets an amused smile, coupled with a disapproving head tilt - how Minho manages to convey such different emotions at once is a mystery, but he makes it work. “How old are you?” Minho asks. “I’m 24.“

At first their eyes meet like Minho has just issued some kind of silent challenge. Changbin loses soon enough when he ducks his head and breaks eye contact. “Minho-hyung,” he mumbles, to which Minho laughs and heartily claps his back in response.

He watches as Minho expertly finagles a free round of drinks for both of them, and then he follows as the older leads the way to the closest table for two.

“Do you come here a lot?” Changbin curiously asks after they get served soju and a few plates of side dishes. Minho doesn't really strike him as the heavy drinker type but it's not like he knows a lot about Minho in general, but if Minho is getting free drinks then he figures it's safe to assume he's a regular.

“Huh? Me?” Minho points at himself, and shakes his head as if that was an absurd notion. “it's my first time drinking here - it's just been one of those days, you know? Just needed a drink or two.”

Changbin would agree and say he understands what the older means, but he's stuck at bafflement, “Wait, but you and the ajumma…?” He shoots the other an incredulous look, yet once again he’s met with laughter. Really now, he thinks, he’s starting to get used to this and maybe that’s actually why he doesn’t doubt that the next time they meet, Minho will just find another way to confuse him.

“What about me and the ajumma?” Minho clarifies after pouring them both shots. “She’s a nice lady, isn’t she?”

“Nothing,” Changbin shakes his head and clicks his tongue in order to hold back from laughing. He doesn’t understand if Minho’s being obtuse or if he genuinely thinks it’s perfectly normal for him to treat everyone as friends on the first meeting. “But you’re paying right?” He asks, grinning as he tries his luck. If Minho is going to be acting like they’re close friends, then Changbin is going to treat him as such. “I’m a broke and struggling college student, you know.”

Minho laughs - by now Changbin’s getting used to the sound of it, even though it actually sounds different every time he hears it. Minho laughs like there’s a story behind each note or pitch that he produces. “You think I’m rich?” Minho asks, head shaking before he picks up his shot glass to down the contents in one go. Changbin watches, and waits for the telltale hiss as the liquid burns while traveling down Minho’s throat before he answers,

“Well what _do_ you do for a living?”

“I—,” And there it is again, _that_ laugh, “—peddle real estate, and I just closed a pretty good deal on an apartment in Gangnam earlier today, and I’m— _we’re_ celebrating! So just for tonight, okay, drinks are on me. Don’t get used to it.”

Now it’s Changbin’s turn to laugh, because it turns out he didn’t even really relate to Minho’s version of ‘one of those days,’ either.

  
  
  


They end up celebrating a whole lot - maybe even a _bit_ too much. He doesn’t understand how it came to this - he wasn’t even supposed to be _celebrating_ \- but he supposes Minho could have been celebrating while he’d wallowed in his little pool of self pity. Both involved shoving shot after shot down their throats, and no one would have known any better.

All he knows is that when he wakes up, it’s to Minho’s violent shaking of his arm.

“Whasdfsgft?” Changbin grumbles; he has no idea where he is, even as his vision slowly comes to focus. He’s pretty sure he’s not in his room _or_  his apartment. The bed certainly doesn’t feel like his, and, when he turns to his side—

_Why is Lee Minho on the bed beside him?_

He recalls drinking with Minho, of course. He remembers the ajumma serving them drinks, bottle after bottle of soju, well into the night. He remembers Minho’s weirdly detailed story about how he got into real estate (to which the basic summary was just: he was fresh out of high school, and he was recruited by a senior of his), and he remembers rambling about his personal health regimen (which Minho had the gall to actually _laugh_ about - it’s not Changbin’s fault he takes that many supplements, he’d like to think of himself as a continuously growing boy after all).

For the life of him, he even recalls Minho reaching over the table to tickle his chin, to which he’d responded with a slurred and teasing, “Careful or I’ll cut you.” He’s _sure_ both of them were quite buzzed by that point.

But when he tries to remember how the night ended, he comes up with nothing. He’s now certain that a huge chunk of his memories from last night is missing, or is at least a complete blur. He obviously doesn’t know what to say, or if he should address what clearly happened last night.

And then Minho beats him to it in the most candid way.

_Fuck. I’m pretty sure that's what we did last night._

And what else can Changbin do but laugh at that?

  
  
  


Once their combined laughter dies down, Minho simply rolls off the bed. Changbin feels like absolute shit, so he assumes he looks it too. For some reason, even though Minho’s hair is sticking out, he looks beautiful. It’s unfair, he thinks, how some people make beauty seem so effortless, but this line of thought is interrupted by Minho saying something out loud.

“What was that?” He asks, wincing as the sharpness of Minho’s voice activates a throbbing pain in his head. He makes a mental note never again to drink as freely as he did the night before - or, well, at least not for a while.

“I said - do you want some breakfast? I’ll make something. Toast and eggs at least.” The pained expression on Minho’s face tells Changbin that he isn’t the only one with a hangover, so for that at least he’s thankful. The world is still fair in some aspects.

“Okay,” he mumbles without really thinking about it, just nodding slowly because he’s more preoccupied in searching the room with his eyes for all the clothing items he’s going to need to collect and put back on. Once Minho exits the room, he slowly shuffles out of the bed and proceeds to gather them all - his boxer briefs, for some reason, is hanging off of the side of Minho’s dresser, but his growing headache prompts Changbin not to question any of it.

“How do you like your eggs?” Minho asks him once he steps out of the bedroom, and it’s a bit jarring how normal and domestic it sounds.

“Scrambled?” Changbin offers, and Minho just nods, even humming as he goes about his business in the kitchen.

  
  
  


❦

  
  
  


**minh_0o:** hey, i cut my sandwiches in ½ and thot of u            _20:03_

 

Minho’s message arrives one Saturday evening, after Changbin had spent the entire day at the university library, his only companion his old, practically broken down laptop, as he worked on revising his thesis. He’s tired and he’s not sure what to make of Minho’s words.

It’s been two weeks since whatever it was that happened between them happened, and this is only the second time Minho has chosen to send Changbin any sort of message even though he had been the one to bring up exchanging Kakao IDs. Granted, the first time was really just an Apeach sticker that said “HI!” and it was just Minho testing if he’d added the right ID.

On Changbin’s part, he’d never really found the right excuse to send Minho anything; besides they still constantly ran into each other around the building - truthfully, nothing much has changed between their dynamics, except now Changbin knows to expect the unexpected when it comes to Minho.

The message definitely falls under unexpected, and as usual, Changbin is stumped as to how to respond, even though it _does_ kind of make him laugh. He considers replying with, ‘i’ve been told that a lot, and i’ve also been told that sandwiches are very filling food,’ but before he can even start typing, Minho’s message tab alerts him that Minho has started typing something else.

 

 **minh_0o:** it looks like u lol            _20:05_ _  
_ **minh_0o:** u wanna come over for l8 dinner? made a few 2 many sandwiches            _20:05_

 

The follow-up confuses him even more and he actually starts wondering if this is a booty call of some sort. The idea makes him laugh after a few seconds though - Minho seems like the type of person who would just say it straight up if that was case. At least, that’s what Changbin thinks initially, until he reminds himself that with Minho, one can never be sure.

Despite reservations, as usual, he finds his feet moving on their own; if Minho wants to share his dinner, then Changbin isn’t about to say no to free food, especially since it’s pretty late and he hasn’t had a bite to eat since noon. If it’s something else - _well._

Maybe he should be more wary, but Minho intrigues him, and he can’t help the weird pull he feels despite the fact that it tends to be cushioned by the awkward air that surrounds him whenever they actually _are_ in the same room.

Soon enough, he’s in front of Minho’s apartment, closed fist poised and ready to knock on the door. And then it suddenly swings wide open before he can do anything, and Minho is right there, nodding at him in greeting and gesturing for him to come in.

“I thought I heard shuffling by the door,” he explains after Changbin closes the door behind him. He waits for Changbin to take his shoes off, and then he leads the way further into the apartment.

Changbin still feels hesitant, his thoughts preoccupied with wondering where this encounter is going - truth is, he’s surprised at how unsure he is with regards to how he wants the night to turn out. He’s never _this_ indecisive.

“I got pizza too, actually,” Minho pipes up once they reach the kitchen, and Changbin’s train of thought is interrupted. He looks up, probably looking more surprised than he should be, because Minho looks briefly confused at his reaction.

“Oh—” His gaze falls on the open pizza box sitting on the kitchen counter, and he naturally laughs. “People have told me more than once pizza reminds them of me too — guess you were really thinking of me, huh, hyung?”

Minho opens his mouth as if to say something, only to close it again; instead he gives Changbin a withering stare, that dissipates just a few seconds later, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he breaks out into laughter.

A self-satisfied smirk forms on Changbin’s lips; the sound of Minho’s laughter feels especially good, like it’s something that he can take pride for making happen.

“Quit standing around there,” Minho tells him, his voice piercing through Changbin’s thoughts. Minho is waving a free hand at the food, while his other one is already holding a slice up to his mouth. “Eat up. Did you think I invited you up here for something other than dinner?”

The comment wipes the smug expression off of Changbin’s face, and he wonders if maybe he should just accept that with Minho he’s _never_ going to really be able to get the last word in. Still, he scoffs and grabs a slice for himself, trying to look as if Minho didn’t just get the right idea about him.

  
  
  


Maybe the truth is that Changbin has been slowly remembering most of what happened that night, and he has been, ever since the day after when he’d taken a shower and he saw the very obvious purple mark that Minho inadvertently left right below the dip of his collar bone.

So now he remembers —

He remembers walking back to the building with Minho, both of them drunkenly swaying and stumbling all over the sidewalk that they’d needed to put their arms around each other for support. He remembers being so physically close to Minho, that he was able to inhale his scent with each breath he took - a strange combination of soju mixed with sweat, and strangely enough, men’s soap. He even remembers finding it strange how enticing that scent is because in his head, objectively, it shouldn’t be.

He remembers Minho’s finger looping through his belt hoop when the elevator dings on his floor, remembers Minho pulling him closer so that he doesn’t get off the floor where he should. The feeling of Minho’s lips on his own, on everywhere else on his body - it's all so vivid in his head. Minho’s touch, the sounds he made, they're all embedded in Changbin’s memory now.

He remembers Minho repeatedly asking _Is this okay? Does this feel good—?_ And most of all, he remembers how _good_ everything felt - how well his body responded to Minho’s, and how nice it felt to have Minho respond to each little movement of his hips, to each mindful flick of his wrist.

He remembers so much now, and whenever Minho is close enough that he’s able to catch a whiff of his mildly familiar scent, the imagery of that night rushes to him and floods his senses and it _ruins_ his confidence - which isn’t an easy feat to begin with. Changbin knows perfectly well what his strengths and weaknesses are, but the more he mulls it over, the more he starts to think that maybe that’s a part of the problem.

  
  
  


When Minho stays a perfect gentleman after dinner, only inviting Changbin for several rounds on his PS4 before sending him off, a weird feeling akin to disappointment settles in his gut and that’s when Changbin realises that, if anything, Minho is starting to look and feel more and more like a weakness.

  
  
  


❦

  
  
  


“Hey!” Minho’s smile is bright but casual when he turns up in front of Changbin’s apartment one Sunday afternoon. Changbin is pretty sure he hadn’t invited him over, and he doesn’t think he remembers Minho ever mentioning having plans to drop by, so he’s pretty visibly surprised by the older male’s sudden appearance. “We keep hanging out at mine,” Minho explains, clearly reading his reaction. “So I figured it was time for a change.”

“Are we supposed to be friends?” Changbin asks, but even so, he’s already opening the door wider so that Minho can step inside.

“You hurt me,” Minho deadpans, hand over heart to telegraph feelings of hurt. “Wait—” He glances at the extra pair of shoes lying by the entranceway. “You’ve got company?”

As if on cue, Hyunjin chooses that moment to peer out from the living room, and his eyes meet with Minho’s. Changbin grunts and gestures between the two of them. “Minho-hyung, this is Hyunjinnie,” he introduces. “Hyunjin, this is Minho-hyung who— actually, what _are_ you doing here?”

“I told you,” Minho answers as if the question Changbin just asked is so trivial, “Wanted to hang out. Hi Hyunjin,” he shifts his attention to the younger male, “You guys were busy?”

Hyunjin shrugs, before flashing a warm and friendly smile. “Hyung was just helping me with my calculus,” he explains. “But we’re just about done.”

“He’s my junior at university,” Changbin, for some reason, feels the need to make this clear.

“Oh, perfect,” Minho comments, his tone a tad more gleeful than Changbin is comfortable with. “I’m hungry - aren’t you hungry, Hyunjin-ah? Let’s order.”

Hyunjin, as expected, looks quite surprised at how informal Minho is being, and like Changbin when he first met Minho, he seems unsure how to react.

Changbin shakes his head and takes it upon himself to save Hyunjin, his self-proclaimed most precious dongsaeng, from Minho. “Are we friends?” he repeats, a corner of his mouth turned up turned up mockingly.

“Apparently not,” Minho shoots back, without batting an eyelash. “Because you never told me you have people as good looking as Hyunjin around you.” He chuckles as he makes an obvious pause to his statement, before he continues, “I mean, who would’ve thought - I guess opposites _do_ attract!”

Changbin snorts, and starts to cackle only to cut it short when it suddenly dawns on him what Minho is implying. “Hey! Wait a minute—”

It’s too late though, and his delayed understanding is met with a chorus of laughter coming from Minho _and_ Hyunjin both.

“Who did I hurt in my past life to deserve this?” Changbin grumbles under his breath, and Hyunjin is quick to wrap a comforting arm around his shoulder. Minho, on the other hand, is still snickering even as he takes his phone out.

“So, we’re getting delivery right?” He asks, clearly already scrolling through his food delivery app.

“He’s paying,” Changbin informs Hyunjin without running it by Minho first. “You’re paying,” he continues, turning to Minho to confirm this, and surprisingly Minho doesn’t put up any sort of protest.

“So, how do you and Changbin-hyung know each other?” Hyunjin asks later, once they’re all seated around the dining table with a feast laid out in front of them.

“I live upstairs,” Minho answers at the exact same time Changbin comes up with, “He stalked me.” He snickers, and Minho shoots him a sharp glare, while Hyunjin laughs with amusement.

“He has his delusions,” Minho deadpans, shaking his head as he turns his attention back on Hyunjin. “You two know each other from school?”

Hyunjin nods as if to confirm Minho’s statement, but Changbin knows his friend well enough to recognize the gesture as a habit of Hyunjin’s when he’s filing and processing certain information in his head. “What do you do for a living, Minho-hyung?” Hyunjin continues with his questions, and while Hyunjin has always been a naturally curious boy, something in his tone makes Changbin raise an eyebrow at him.

“Why so curious?” Minho asks, apparently suspicious too even though he keeps a smile on his face.

His tone, however, has Hyunjin suddenly ducking his head, clearly feeling self conscious. Changbin naturally reaches over to give the younger male an supportive shoulder squeeze. His gaze meets Minho’s in that same moment, but he isn’t sure what to make of the expression the latter wears in his eyes.

“Hyung’s in real estate,” he says instead, answering Hyunjin’s question himself.

“Yeah,” Minho agrees, breaking eye contact with Changbin, and instead flashing Hyunjin a more encouraging smile. “And I teach kids dance during weekends,” he adds, which is something Changbin didn’t know.

He throws Minho a surprised look, and in return he gets the most genuine smile he’s seen from Minho so far. Hyunjin, oblivious to their exchange, simply switches into overexcited mode.

“Really?!” Hyunjin’s entire being literally perks up, and Changbin is aware it’s because dancing is something he himself enjoys a lot. “Like.. children? You teach young children?”

Minho nods, and Changbin’s interest is further piqued - children have always fascinated him. “The class is filled with eight year olds to thirteen year olds, and it’s not really a professional dancing class or anything, but—” He shrugs. “You’re welcome to come and watch if you want. Do you dance too?”

Hyunjin nods enthusiastically. “I do— I’m not that good at it, but…” He trails off, and Changbin shakes his head before patting him on the back once more.

“Don’t be too modest, Hyunjin-ah,” he tells the other male; that Minho is keeping a close eye on him as he does so, isn’t lost on Changbin.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Minho puts in with a shrug. “If you’re not dancing for a living, then your skill level doesn’t matter as long as you enjoy it, right? I’ll give you the studio address later, you can drop by anytime you want. I’m there on Saturdays.”

“What about me?” Changbin interjects. “I don’t get an invitation, hyung?”

Minho’s gaze flits from Hyunjin to Changbin; something unreadable to Changbin is briefly reflected in them again, until he shrugs and a hint of mischief sparks in them instead. “Eh,” he answers noncommittally, “I guess you’re welcome to come, too.”

  
  
  


“So,” Minho asks, when Hyunjin has gone home, and he’s still hanging around in Changbin’s apartment for some reason. “You and that Hyunjin - is there something going on there?”

Minho had made himself at home in his apartment, and when he’d seen a few bottles of beer stashed at the back of Changbin’s fridge, he’d insisted of drinking them together, and maybe Changbin shouldn’t have easily agreed because now he almost chokes on the drink at Minho’s question.

“What?!” He sputters, unwittingly spitting out beer and causing Minho to laugh loudly. “Me and Hyunjin?! No—”

It’s not the complete truth, if only because Changbin actually _did_ have a massive crush on the younger when they’d first met. He would argue that it would have been hard not to - everyone falls for Hwang Hyunjin at one point. But he isn’t lying about there being nothing between the two of them now, just not for lack of (once) trying on his part.

“No,” he reiterates, using his sleeve to wipe his mouth. “Hyunjinnie… he has a girl he’s interested in.”

“Oh?” Minho takes a slow sip of his drink in a way that makes it appear deliberate to Changbin. “I see. That’s good, then,” he says, the smile that forms on his face quite hard to read.

In the morning, when Changbin wakes up, his memory is definitely much more intact than the last time; makes sense as he’s pretty sure than a couple bottles of beer is in no way enough to get either of them wasted.

Apparently, however, it was more than enough of an excuse to fall into bed again with Minho, because despite the older’s obvious attempts at quietly escaping this particular morning after, Changbin is still easily woken up by his soft shuffling around his room.

“Morning,” Minho mumbles, their eyes meeting right after he manages to slip his shirt over his head.

Changbin only nods and grunts in return.

“I’ll get going then,” Minho informs him, fingers carding through his hair in a way that mesmerizes Changbin - it’s not his fault that he’s half asleep, and Minho’s hair looks soft and wispy even at an early hour.

“Wait, no—” He suddenly says, when it dawns on him that Minho is about to exit just like that. He attempts to reach for Minho’s wrist, only to miss, but Minho stops anyway, and gives him an expectant look. “You let me stay for breakfast last time,” Changbin mumbles, his voice low and sleepy. “The least I can do is return the favor.”

  
  
  


❦

  
  
  


Minho meets Jisung by accident, and when it happens, Changbin almost thinks it’s a nightmare come to life.

“I really, truly thought he was  stalking me!” Jisung declares, after recounting the details of his run-in with Minho. Apparently they’d exited the convenience store across the street at the same time, and Minho had kept walking right behind him straight into the building, and even up the elevator. By the time they’d both gotten off at Changbin’s floor, Jisung was entirely convinced that Minho was a stalker.

Minho keeps laughing as Jisung recalls the sequence of events in a loud, dramatic manner - very typical of Jisung, really, but Changbin has known him since they were both in high school so he’s more than used to it.

“I think this is more than enough proof that you give off a stalker vibe, hyung,” Changbin jokes, snickering as he turns to face Minho.

“This clown,” Minho starts, referring to Changbin but turning to face Jisung instead, “really thought I’d stalk _him._ ”

“Hmm,” Jisung laughs, and smiles cheekily at Changbin. “I think that’s huge stretch, hyung,” he says in a faux condescending manner that has Minho giving him a high five, while Changbin can only gape at both of them in disbelief.

“Oiii,” Changbin snarls at Jisung. “What do _you_ have that I don’t that’s stalker worthy?!” He realises, even as the words come out of his mouth, that he probably has to recheck his priorities.

Jisung keeps sporting that annoying, over-confident grin of his, even as he launches into a somber sounding explanation, “It’s not just that I’m more stalker worthy than you hyung, it’s that I’m at a level where I’m _Minho-hyung_ _as a stalker_ worthy.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Changbin argues, but Minho is already laughing and validating Jisung’s ridiculous statement by giving him a fond pat on the head. This, Changbin thinks, is why he never wanted the two biggest weirdos in his life together in one room, but here he is, and here they are anyway.

“Careful, Jisungie,” Minho goads, clearly enjoying this three way banter while Changbin goes on to wonder how Minho and Jisung are already referring to each other in such an informal manner when they literally just met barely an hour ago. “If you tease our Changbinnie too much, he might stab you with his chin.”

“Oh no!” Jisung plays along, “I’m scared!”

Changbin just rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated groan; despite this, however, there’s a small part of him that’s kind of endeared that Minho is getting along so well with Jisung, who just happens to be Changbin’s oldest friend.

And then they high-five again, their obnoxious laughter ringing in Changbin’s ears, and once again he's just wondering what kind of grave sin he committed in a previous life to deserve this treatment.

  
  
  


The way Minho inserts himself into Changbin’s life is quite seamless after that; Changbin himself isn’t even sure how it happens, and Changbin is left to ponder how Minho went from that strange neighbor who was frequently snooping around whenever he’d check his mail, to the strange neighbor who was _always_ hanging around his apartment.

There’s a string of days when they keep missing each other - Minho would drop by Changbin’s, and he wouldn’t be there, or Changbin would knock on Minho’s door only to get no response. Somehow this actually leads to them exchanging security codes.

“It’s convenient,” Minho declares simply, in a very matter-of-fact tone that Changbin finds it hard to argue.

Most days, he finds it’s not really a bad thing - like when he finds containers of homemade cooking stashed away in his fridge.

“Oh those?” Minho always appears so _nonchalant_ whenever Changbin questions him about it. “I made a little too much, and food should never go to waste.”

He never acts like it means anything, so Changbin doesn’t press. If sometimes Changbin thinks that it might be because he’s more than once mentioned to Minho that he rarely has time for proper dinners these days, he makes sure not to dwell too much on the idea. Either way, it’s not as if he’s going to say no to free meals, not when the only alternative is unhealthy takeout every night. So he’s silently grateful, and appreciative, and he just thinks that Minho _was_ right - it’s _convenient._

 

Of course, there are days when he wonders what in the world he was thinking, giving Minho the lock code so easily.

Like when he comes home one afternoon, only to find Minho _and_ Jisung on his couch, in the middle of an aggressive tickle match - apparently, as he manages to find out soon after, a battle for control of the remote control.

“You both really have to watch TV _here?”_ He asks incredulously.

“I wanted to hang out!” Jisung declares, taking the opportunity to snatch the remote control away from Minho while the latter had his attention on Changbin. “Ha!”

Minho rolls his eyes, and simply lets out a sigh of defeat. “I was bored,” he tells Changbin without much affectation. “And I found Jisung looking all sulky while waiting for you by your door so I let  him in.”

“Speaking of which—” Jisung pipes up like he’s suddenly remembering something. “Why does _he_ get to have access to your apartment, and I don’t, when I’m the one who’s known you for over a decade?!”

Changbin opens his mouth to answer, only to close it again as he exchanges a knowing look with Minho.

“It’s because he knows you’re going to end up ransacking his pantry and leaving him with nothing to eat if he ever leaves you alone here,” Minho answers for him with a snort and a laugh.

“What he said,” Changbin grunts and nods in agreement.

 

And there are other days when he isn’t sure if it’s good or bad that Minho has such easy access to his apartment; like when he comes home to find his kitchen in shambles because Minho had allowed Hyunjin free reign in it.

“He said he wanted to make you a nice meal,” Minho explains, obviously trying to keep his laughter in as they both watch Hyunjin move around frantically, trying to follow each step in the recipe he’d downloaded online, to a tee. “How was I to know he’s never actually cooked _anything_ before?”

“Hyun—” Changbin sighs. “Hyunjin-ah, you do realise the only action this kitchen ever gets is when I make ramyeon, right?”

At this point, Minho is almost choking on his own laughter while Hyunjin actually stops and turns to face Changbin with a stricken expression. _“What?!”_

He sighs, and just finally gives in, and starts laughing as well. At the very least, he figures that life has been more interesting with Minho around.

  
  
  


“I like Minho-hyung,” Hyunjin tells him. With first term finals over, the two of them have finally taken Minho up on his invitation to visit his Saturday dance class.

It was an interesting experience, to say the least. Changbin had really just tagged along to keep Hyunjin company, but seeing Minho around a bunch of pre-teens was strangely satisfying. He played around with them, teased them a lot like he’s seen Minho done with others (namely himself, if Changbin is to be honest, and oftentimes Jisung and Hyunjin too), but he knew when to be patient, and when to be more encouraging with his words and his instructions. He had even managed to integrate an eager Hyunjin into that day’s lesson, much to the delight of his students, all of whom clearly idolised Minho. Before today, Changbin wouldn’t have thought any of that about Minho.

“He’s funny,” Hyunjin continues. With the class over, the two of them are just hanging around, waiting for Minho as he packs up and takes a quick shower before the three of them can all go out for dinner. “But he’s a little, hm—”

“Weird?” Changbin snorts. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

“A little, yes,” Hyunjin admits, laughing as if embarrassed by his personal observation. “But he’s funny, and he’s interesting, and I really do like him.”

“So you’ve said,” Changbin points out, now curious as to where Hyunjin is planning on taking this conversation.

“So…” Hyunjin looks at him, a sly smile drawn on his lips. “What’s up with the two of you?”

The question takes Changbin by surprise, but he manages to maintain enough presence of mind that he's and to feign confusion. “I don't understand the question?” He replies, pretending to scratch the inside of his wrist so he doesn't have to look at Hyunjin directly.

“I mean,” Hyunjin tries again, but he’s more cautious in his tone now, “What is Minho-hyung to you?”

“My neighbor,” Changbin answers, miraculously able to keep his tone even and steady.

Hyunjin hums, and Changbin is aware that the wheels in his head are turning - he's wondering if he's observed wrong, and because this is Hyunjin, Changbin knows he won't push the topic now that he's unsure about his assumptions.

“Hey, what are you two talking about?” Minho arrives just in time too, squeezing himself in between the two of them, and slinging one arm comfortably around Hyunjin. Changbin’s thankful because this just assures that Hyunjin will definitely hold back from further questioning now. “You were talking about me, weren’t you?” Minho asks, grinning saucily.

“Yeah, sure,” Changbin deadpans. “I was talking about how great and amazing you were with the kids, and how it’s endearing that they look up to you so much.” Despite his tone, he’s voicing actual, genuine thoughts out.

“I know,” Minho agrees brazenly. “Thanks.”

“You know, now is probably the best time for you to serve me a compliment right back,” Changbin retorts, eyebrow arched expectantly.

“Hmmm—” Minho pauses as if to actually consider it. “Nah,” he eventually continues, his dismissal punctuated with brash laughter.

  
  
  


❦

  
  
  


When Changbin’s last term in university kicks off, he gets busy right from the get go. Most of his nights are spent at the university library researching and revising his thesis, and for the first time since he’d first met Minho, _weeks_ actually pass without him seeing or even running into the older male.

It’s weird - even their Kakao message tab has been quiet, but what’s even stranger is that Changbin finds himself constantly checking for messages, finds himself constantly looking over his shoulder, wondering (hoping, maybe, even if he would never admit this out loud) if Minho is ever in the immediate vicinity.

It’s one Thursday evening that he finds himself burned out, and just plain _tired_. He’s been rewriting the same paragraph all afternoon, so he declares that he could use a break - he has a Monday draft deadline, but he can just work overtime during the weekend.

He scrolls through his contacts, wondering who he can invite out for a late dinner, but in the end he pockets it again without calling anyone. Within an hour, he finds himself standing in front of Minho’s door, six pack in hand, and face to face with a surprised, but smiling Minho.

“Changbinnie!”

“What are you wearing?” He asks, looking just a little horrified as he takes in the older’s appearance.

“Sleepwear,” Minho answers, unfazed, as he just lets Changbin walk inside. “What’s going on?”

Changbin holds up the six-pack of beer he’s holding, hoping that’s enough to convey his need to destress, because so far he’s still distracted by Minho’s attire.

“Seriously, _what_ are you wearing?” He repeats. His pants - a bright, fire truck red with white and black print - are clinging just a tad too much to his skin, and it was very distracting.

“Clothes,” Minho answers, clearly confused as to why Changbin is sounding so bothered.

“Why aren’t you wearing _underwear?_ ” Changbin spits out before he can stop himself, and after a moment of surprise, Minho starts laughing. _“What?!”_ Changbin can feel an embarrassed flush creeping up from his neck, to his face; it’s a small consolation that Minho actually, for once, despite laughing, looks a bit self-conscious as well.

“I was going to _sleep,”_ Minho argues.

“It’s barely nine,” Changbin shoots back with a disapproving head shake. “And that’s not the point, hyung. You sleep _without_ underwear?”

“Some people sleep naked,” Minho points out, an underlying hint of defensiveness audible in his tone.

“You answered the door,” Changbin retorts, unrelated to Minho’s statement. “—it could have been anyone!”

“And it was you,” Minho shoots back, a bit exasperated now. “What’s your point?”

Changbin half groans, half laughs; he’s so bothered by this and even he cannot articulate  why. “Your dick is swinging around, and you can easily tell in those— in that thing you’re wearing!”

Pregnant silence immediately follows Changbin’s sudden outburst, that he almost considers turning on his heel, and just exiting Minho’s apartment without a word.

“For your information, they’re called refrigerator pants,” Minho says eventually. “They’re breezy, and really nice to sleep in, and—” he snorts, obviously holding back laughter, “—it’s not like you haven’t seen my dick before. So maybe just shut up, and—” he nods towards the beer that Changbin has almost forgotten he’s brought with him, “—just hand me one of those.”

So Changbin does just that, and the rest of the night goes down just as Changbin had expected it to.

  
  
  


Whatever it is that’s going on between them, it’s not exactly _something,_ but it can easily be argued that Changbin has fallen into bed with Minho a few too many times to categorize whatever it is as ‘nothing.’

This is what Changbin is unable to explain to Hyunjin when he had asked what Minho is to Changbin - Minho, if anything, has become a habit. It’s become so easy for them to seek each other out whenever one or both of them is in need of some sort of release, at least that’s how Changbin sees it. Far be it for him to assume what goes on in Minho’s head, because by now he’s learned that’s nearly impossible to do.

Either way, it’s become routine -  a drink, maybe two, never too much to get them drunk, but always just enough to give them an ample amount of liquid courage before they’re falling all over each other. Once the sun is up, and the alcohol is gone, no one really mentions any of it again - at least until the next time the cycle begins once more.

“Stop staring,” Minho barks at him as he slips a shirt over his head.

Changbin’s lazily sprawled on the bed; he knows Minho’s off to prepare breakfast like he always does, but he hadn’t really realised that he was staring. “Sorry,” he snorts. “I couldn’t help it, those pants are too horrific, I can’t help it. Did you _always_ wear those?”

This is actually new - banter in the aftermath.

Yet, it feels strangely normal and Changbin realises that’s how most of everything between him and Minho can be described. Strange, but normal.

Minho groans and walks over to his drawer, briefly rummaging through it before pulling out another pair of pants similar to his, except this one is bright shade of purple. “Here,” he says, laughing as he tosses it at Changbin. “Try it for yourself!”

He makes a face as he catches the garment with his hands, and then he wrinkles his nose before he tosses it right back at Minho.

“I swear, Changbin—” Minho laughs when the clothing just hits him square on the chest before it slides down to the floor. “You have the gall to complain about swinging dicks, when yours is the one hanging out in the open right now.”

“Uh—” Changbin actually blushes in embarrassment, and he’s prompted to move and quickly pick his boxers up off the floor where it was thoughtlessly discarded last night.

“See you out there for breakfast,” Minho comments, still cackling as he walks out of the room.

  
  
  


“So, yesterday - long day?” Minho asks over eggs and fried rice, to which Changbin simply shrugs in answer. “Do you ever go see your other friends when you’re stressed?”

Changbin looks up from his food; breakfast talk between the two of them usually involves silly small talk so he isn’t sure what Minho wants to hear.

 _Sure,_ he starts to say, but he stops because now that he’s faced with the inquiry, he realises that he doesn’t, really. Hyunjin and Jisung are the two people Changbin considers closest to him, and he never likes burdening them with anything - he’s always made a conscious decision not to involve them when he has problems because he always thought that he shouldn’t need to depend on his younger friends. As much as he likes to play with them, and have fun with them like they’re equals, he also wants them to be the ones to rely on him for support and encouragement.

“Of course I do,” is what he tells Minho anyway.

“Ah, yeah? Is that so?” Minho sounds completely unconvinced, and it makes Changbin want to just change the topic already.

“What about you? Don’t _you_ have other friends you can spend your nights with?”

Minho lifts an eyebrow at the question, and the brief silence that follows has Changbin wondering if Minho feels affronted from his words.

“Do I look like the type to have no friends?” Minho asks, his tone alarmingly even keeled.

“I— well,” Changbin laughs, suddenly regretting his attempt at turning the tables, because Minho is a beautiful man with no shame and he knows it. It’s quite obvious that he has his pick of 'friends.’ “Hyung...” is all he’s left to say, sentence trailing off with no real meaning, as Changbin just laughs some more instead.

“I’m hanging out here with you right now, though, aren’t I?” Minho points out, and even though there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips, he doesn’t join in Changbin’s laughter at all. “Maybe consider that for a bit.”

  
  
  


**minh_0o:** dinner out?            _18:21_ _  
_ **minh_0o:** i do mean actual dinner. i got bbq discount coupons.           _ 18:21 _

**chang811n:** hyung           _ 18:28 _ _  
_ **chang811n:** u asking me on a date? kkk           _ 18:28 _

**minh_0o:** fuck off           _ 18:35 _ _  
_ **minh_0o:** ur home right? just meet me at the lobby in 10           _ 18:36 _

 

Changbin wonders if the slight shift in his dynamic with Minho is obvious only to him, or if it’s actually deliberate on the other man’s part.

He stares at his phone screen, where his own words stare at him right back; ‘u asking me on a date?’ almost makes him laugh because he doesn’t know what kind of response he’d been expecting the question would get.

‘fuck off,’ seems to be about right coming from Minho, though, and all he can do is sigh before pocketing his phone, grabbing his jacket and going on his way out to the lobby as requested from him.

  
  
  


“What are your plans after graduation?” Minho is in the middle of grilling meat, when he asks the question without any form of preamble.

“Are we suddenly playing twenty questions?” Changbin grunts, casually picking at the meat with his steel chopsticks.

Minho clicks his tongue, and when Changbin looks up, he realises that Minho is shooting him a sullen glare. “I’m trying to have a conversation here,” he says pointedly, with a hint of frustration that’s new to Changbin.

“Well,” He pauses, watching as Minho graciously places a few pieces of well-done meat in his bowl. He realises that Minho is making actually being somewhat _sweet_ in his own way, so he decides it should be safe for him to lower his guard down. “I guess the most immediate plan is to find a 9 to 5 that pays decently.”

“Ah,” Minho nods, but there’s something about his reaction that makes Changbin feel judged. “Like a corporate job, then?”

“Yeah— I just want to earn as much as I can so I can start paying my parents back for all they’ve done for me,” He finds himself explaining.

This time a more genuine smile curves on Minho’s lips. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the filial type,” he murmurs.

“What of it—?”

“Nothing,” Minho laughs, his eyes meeting Changbin’s. “It’s impressive, but— between you and me, what do you want to _really_ do?”

“How do you know that’s not what I _really_ want?”

“No offense but no one actually _dreams_ of corporate jobs,” Minho points out, with even more laughter. “Besides, family’s the exact same reason I got a job straight out of high school. It’s not like I started out dreaming of being a real estate agent - but apparently I’m good at selling bullshit, so I’m good at it, and now I make decent money.” He pauses, shrugging and pursing his lips before he continues, “This is also why I teach dance on weekends — it’s something I _actually_ enjoy. I think everyone needs to keep the things that they genuinely like and enjoy in their lives.”

Changbin can’t help but smile because he figures this is actually Minho’s version of _sharing;_ still, it takes him several seconds before he answers. “Okay, if it was up to me…?” He pauses again and takes a deep breath; he’s honestly never admitted what he’s about to say out loud to anyone, not even Hyunjin, or Jisung who he’s known since he had baby teeth. “I kind of want to teach kids— like, uh.” He feels flushed and embarrassed for some reason, and nervous that Minho will laugh at him for what he’s about to admit. “I kind of want to be a kindergarten teacher.”

“Oh?” Minho seems amused but unsurprised. “That… oddly suits you,” he comments, and now it’s Changbin who is surprised at how nice Minho is being about this. He has to remind himself that Minho actually works with kids on a regular basis, and that he actually works _well_ with them. It’s a refreshing reminder, especially since it makes Changbin feel like it’s something he potentially has in common with the older.

“Thanks?” He flashes a tentative grin at the older, slowly allowing himself to bask in the warmth of Minho’s rare compliment.

“Your thesis is focused on child psychology, right?” Minho asks, and Changbin nods, even though he’s sure that his surprise is evident in his features - he hadn’t realised that Minho was even paying attention when Changbin had previously mentioned it in passing.

“You actually remembered,” he comments happily.

“Of course,” Minho nods, chuckling. “Like I said, it fits you. If you ever end up teaching little kids, you’d be eye level with them.”

Changbin’s grin initially grows wider, until it dawns on him that Minho’s chuckling has transformed into playful snickering, and the actual implication of Minho’s words dawn on him.

“Yah!” He calls out, but he’s laughing because there he is - the Minho that he now knows so well.

  
  
  


“Hey, Jisung-ah—“ Even as Changbin calls his friend's attention, he's unsure whether this conversation is one he’s willing to have, especially with Jisung, of all people.

“Yes, hyung?” Jisung looks at him with big, bright eyes, and Changbin reminds himself that Jisung is his best, oldest friend and if he can't discuss his personal life with him, then that leaves him with no one.

“What do you think of Minho-hyung?”

“Minho-hyung…?” Jisung pauses and tilts his head as if to give it a thought. “I think he's great? he’s fun to have around!” He grins, head bobbing excitedly. “He always gets me cheesecake cups, because they sell my favorite brand at the store near his dance studio. It’s very generous of him!”

Changbin stares at his friend in disbelief, once again second guessing his decision to share this part of his life with him. “Jisung-ah,” he drawls. “You like him because he gives you cheesecake cups — how old are you, _five?!”_

Jisung laughs. “Hyung! You asked what I thought of him - I think he’s great! What is this about anyway?”

“Well,” Changbin sighs. Now he’s not sure how to actually bring up the original point of this conversation.

“Is this about whatever is happening between the two of you?” Jisung suddenly asks, like he’s been expecting this all along, and Changbin blinks at him, surprised. “I mean,” Jisung shrugs, “I kind of assumed something was going on because there’s always been this, uh—” He pauses, as if he’s trying to come up with the right way to say whatever it is that he wants to say. “This strange tension between the two of you? Anyone could tell something was going on there, but I never asked because I thought you just didn’t want to say anything because, well— he’s a guy, and you’re a guy, and, well, hyung—” And then Jisung’s hand is on his shoulder, and Jisung is giving him the gentlest, most sincere look. “Hyung, I want you to know that I accept you no matter what.”

Changbin is initially confused as to what Jisung is saying, and it takes him a few seconds before he decodes what Jisung _means._ He thinks it’s sweet, and that this is why Jisung is his best friend, but at the same time, he can’t help it as he bursts into loud, uncontrollable laughter.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, trying to calm down because Jisung is looking taken aback, and almost hurt that Changbin almost feels bad. “I’m sorry,” he croaks, reaching over to give Jisung a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. “It’s just— I didn’t even realise my sexuality was still a secret?”

  
  
  


When the final draft of his thesis gets approved by his adviser, and the weight of the world feels like it’s lifted off of Changbin’s shoulders, his first call, for some reason, is Minho.

“Hyung, go out with me tonight,” he says, not really leaving room for the older to say no. “My treat!”

‘For some reason,’ he rationalizes, even though he knows exactly what the reason is. Minho is the one he’s leaned on for support this whole time, the one he’s depended on to help him get through nights of mind-numbing stress. Their methods might have been a tad unconventional, but time spent with Minho has done the trick quite well over the last several months.

Minho, as much as it feels bizarre to admit, is more than just a habit now; he’s someone important that Changbin  appreciates having in his life, but more than that Minho is the person that Changbin wants to share small joys with.

He arranges to meet Minho at that same drinking stall located a few blocks away from their apartment building, and just like before, when Changbin arrives there, he finds Minho already in the middle of a friendly chat with the ajumma.

“Are you talking about her Suzy-lookalike granddaughter again?” He asks, butting into the conversation with a friendly chuckle, coupled with polite nod directed at the old lady.

“Yes, she was telling me that her granddaughter found a nice young man for herself,” Minho answers, his eyes shining, and his laughter merry. “And now they’re engaged to be married.”

“Ah!” Changbin turns and grins at the old woman. “Congratulations, ajumma!”

“Well, I would have still preferred setting her up with our Minho here,” she says, beaming at Minho - Changbin almost laughs, but he manages to hold it in.

“Yes,” Minho agrees, with a solemn nod. “It’s her loss, but I’m sure she’s happy with her inferior choice, ajumma,” he adds, and this time, Changbin really does crack up.

They end up at the exact same table for two they’d claimed for themselves all those months ago, with the old lady once again letting them have a free round of drinks.

“She really wants you to be her grandson-in-law,” Changbin points out teasingly, while he carefully pours soju into shot glasses for each of them. “This entire night feels like a throwback doesn’t it?” When he looks up, Minho’s expression is a lot more serious now than it was just minutes before when he was playfully joking around with the ajumma. “Hyung?” Changbin calls for his attention while placing a glass in front of Minho. “You still here with me?

Minho breaks out into a smile, “Where else would I be?” He plays with the brim of the tiny shot glass with his finger, but he doesn’t pick it up just yet, so Changbin waits as well. “What were you saying again, Changbinnie?”

“Ah— I was saying tonight feels a bit too familiar,” Changbin points out. He smirks, and decides he might as well try being a bit bolder for the night. “And I was thinking that if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk and into bed again.”

Minho’s eyes meets his, and Changbin is almost blown away with the intensity mirrored in them.

“Uhhh,” Changbin starts, trying to regroup and unable to hold in the childish laughter that trickles out of his throat.

“It’s not that,” Minho tells him, his gaze softening as a small, teasing smile curls on his lips. “Because I’ve been thinking too, and I’ve decided that I don’t want either of us to be drunk when I inevitably _do_ get you into bed again.”

And it’s absolutely a good thing that Changbin hadn’t drank his shot just yet because he probably would have ended up spitting it out or choking on it, all because of Minho’s words.

“You know what—” He laughs, and shakes his head, hand reaching over to push both shot glasses away from them. He inhales deeply, and makes sure his gaze is locked with Minho’s before he continues, “Change of plans, we’re not drinking tonight.”

  
  
  


They’ve been here countless of times before, but tonight isi different. Changbin never realized how much difference even just a single bottle of beer makes, but apparently it does.

His senses are heightened to the extreme - every single movement that Minho makes, he feels to the point of driving him insane and he wants to think that the only variable that’s changed is the lack of alcohol in either of their systems, but—

It’s more than that, and deep in his gut he knows it.

The moment they step inside Minho's room together, Changbin turns his brain off and allows himself to move entirely according to feeling. Minho's hands reach for him, his waist, pulling him closer, and Changbin's eyes zoom from his eyes, to his lips and back - his own hands grab Minho's face, pulling the older down towards him until their lips crash together. There was a certain kind of heat between them, radiating, glowing - he's never been as aware of any of it until now, and he wants to bask in it.

Their lips move against each other's, each shift deepening the kiss, each delicious smack robbing Changbin of his breath until it becomes too much and they both have to break away for some air. Their eyes meet again, mirroring the same desire, want, _need_ and Changbin’s hands are suddenly eager, demanding as he moves to pull and tug at Minho’s clothes.

It doesn’t take long before they’re both falling on the bed, a tangle of limbs and a chorus of needy moans.

  
  
  


———— ❦ ————

  
  
  


It’s not the first, the second - it’s even far from the third time; Minho’s honestly lost track of the count  by now. But in a way, it’s still a first - the first time it happens that they’re completely sober.

He wakes up once again because the sun is shining directly on his face, and it’s annoying, but he supposes he only has himself to blame because as sober as he was he’d forgotten to close the blinds the night before anyway.

With a groan, he turns to his side, away from the window, only to end up facing a still sleeping Changbin.

“Hey,” he mumbles, snickering to himself as he reaches over to tickle the other male’s chin. His chortling just gets more uncontrollable when Changbin’s entire body jerks in response. “Changbinnie, wake up,” he says, his voice low and throaty.

Changbin only whines - _like a big baby,_ Minho thinks, despite feeling charmed beyond reason.

“Wake up,” he repeats, with more than a hint of impatience this time around, and Changbin mumbles something in response that he doesn’t quite understand at first. “What’s that?” He asks, leaning closer.

“Good morning kiss,” Changbin mutters, and this is when Minho realises that Changbin is more than awake - he’s just playing with Minho now.

“Fuck off,” he laughs, giving Changbin a sleepy shove. “You have morning breath,” he adds after a moment’s pause.

Changbin’s own giggling soon mixes in with his own, and eventually Minho’s bedroom is just filled with echoes of of their combined laughter.

“Hyung,” Changbin starts, moving to sit up when eventually they both trail off into companionable silence. “Last night was great.”

Minho grins, following suit and getting up while he flashes a self-satisfied grin at the younger. “I know,” he says. He wants to say that he feels the same, that last night was definitely one for the books.  “You’re welcome,” is what he adds instead.

“Hyung!” Changbin groans. “Throw me a bone here.”

Minho laughs. “I’ll make us breakfast,” he expresses; and then he pauses, leans in, and without another word, he chastely presses his lips against Changbin’s. He smiles when he feels Changbin relaxing into the kiss, and he chuckles when he hears a soft whine escape Changbin when he pulls away. “Morning breath,” he repeats, teasing. “So more later,” he adds, giving the younger a quick peck on the cheek before he finally moves to get up and off the bed.

  
  
  
  


fin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ 3 ] As always, comments and any other type of feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for making it to the end! (:
> 
> [ 4 ] Hit me up on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/rainsoundsmp3) to talk about SKZ, or for anything else, feel free to send me questions/messages on [Curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/yiminho).


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